


Jacket

by amelia_vale_official



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Fluff, M/M, Mild Angst, Minor Angst, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, jacket snuggles, keith snuggles like a koala, soft jeith
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-09
Updated: 2018-09-09
Packaged: 2019-07-08 21:09:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,837
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15938333
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amelia_vale_official/pseuds/amelia_vale_official
Summary: The Garrison has a strict dress code that both cadets and officers were expected to cater to, and for James, who was such a stickler for the rules, something like that was easy business. Which is probably why everyone is so surprised when he's the one person to break the dress code with an out of place coat added to his uniform.“I know this whole damn city thinks it needs you, but not as much as I do; as much as I do.” - The Last of the Real Ones ((Fall Out Boy))





	Jacket

**Author's Note:**

> This fic ran away when I was writing it and gave me cavities because of how sweet it turned out like DAMN, why. This is inspired by my personal Jeith headcanon of Keith getting super cold and seeking out warmth when it gets too much for him. In the end he finds his way to James, who zips his coat closed around him. This was supposed to be pretty short but it’s not. Sorry not sorry, enjoy.

The Garrison had a strict uniform regulation that all cadets and officers needed to follow. It was a way to maintain discipline while keeping up an orderly military image in the face of the public. Now, with all the alien refugees converging on Earth, it was even more important to maintain that discipline and image of status. It showed the newcomers who was in charge, notably who to go to if they were scared or uncertain. They knew that the officers in gray and black were the best people to approach for help, and if they were cadets in orange and white, same deal.

James was a stickler for the rules, the entire Garrison knew that, and he'd been teased about it before. He wouldn't even pop the first few buttons of his uniform when it was too hot out. He kept himself clean and pressed, crisp and regulation orderly. So everyone and their mother noticed instantly when he started wearing the coat around. It was moss green with black accents, lined with fake fur. The material was suede and fashionable, and included a lined hood in addition to small holes in the sleeves for his thumbs, as well as internal pockets on the inside of the coat.

It was incredibly nice, but incredibly against the dress code, even if it did have the standard double G insignia stitched into the right shoulder, and a strip of faux leather stitched to the chest with “Griffin, J” printed on it, as if the coat had been assigned to him. That was unlikely. Odds were it was just custom made and monogrammed because that was the kind of dorky person James was on the inside.

"So, uh," James tensed at the beginnings of the conversation he'd been waiting for, keeping his back turned as he angrily flipped through a folder, "Mister Follow all the Rules, I have a question."

He bit into the inside of his cheek, turning slowly to eye off his team, "What?" he asked, hoping he looked as inconspicuous as possible.

It had been a few days already since he started wearing this coat almost all the time. He'd seen the stares, the confused expressions and gawking that was prompted because Golden Boy James Griffin was breaking the fucking dress code. He'd been waiting for it, and he'd already known Nadia would be the one to bring it up. Ryan was too quiet and polite to point out the discrepancy, and Ina was likely still compiling theories that were going to end up far too accurate; James dreaded the moment when she spoke up.

"Well, how do I put this?" Nadia pressed her hands together and held them up to her lips, her eyes locked on his coat, "I know it's getting colder, and that autumn and winter in the desert are dry seasons that absolutely suck, but, uh, it's only mid-September?"

"So?" James defended, fingers digging into the edges of his folder, crinkling it and the papers within, "It's getting colder during the day, doesn't get higher than seventy-five degrees."

"That... that's not really cold, though," Nadia tried to argue, "At the very least it's not worth wearing a jacket all the time. I mean, no offense, it's a really nice jacket, and later I'm going to ask where I can get one, but-."

"The cold has never affected you before," Ina interrupted, and James heard water rush in his head to deafen the mental curses, "You don't fare well in intense heat, but cold weather you seem to be fine with."

"Well, whatever," James opened his file and tried to read the words printed there, but he couldn't seem to translate any of the letters as his ears buzzed and Ryan actually spoke up.

"You sleep on top of the covers all the time," he revealed, and James closed his file.

"First off, don't watch me sleep, that's weird," he then pointed at the three of them with his folder, "Second, just drop it. So what if I'm wearing a coat? None of the officers have called me out, Iverson hasn't scolded me, maybe I'm cold, huh? What's so wrong about being cold?"

He kept saying cold, but his cheeks had flushed with heat, and Ina blinked with a slight tilt of her head as Nadia held her chin and hummed. It was Sam Holt who broke the silence as he was passing behind James with Matt at his side, discussing something about the resistance, eyes drawing to the MFE pilots and smiling in greeting.

"Evening pilots. Griffin, I like the coat."

James spun, immediately on defense, "I'm just cold! There's nothing wrong with being cold!"

Sam frowned in surprise as Matt arched his brow into his hair, "No, I suppose there's not."

James turned away after that and started to storm down the hall, muttering and spitting under his breath about being cold, there was nothing wrong with being cold, it was just a fucking jacket. The five left in the hall watched him slither away before looking at each other, Sam giving Nadia a look of question.

She just held her hands in a shrug, "I have no idea."

It wasn't until later that evening that the reason for James' wardrobe finally revealed itself. At first Nadia just assumed James was finally losing his mind after so long following the rules. The war, the status of officer without the change in their uniform outside of the MFE fighter suits, the years of following harsh rules and codes, keeping to regulation, holding in whatever rebellion James could have had, it was all making him short circuit. Normally kids would rebel somehow when they were teenagers, Nadia definitely had, Ina had in her own way, and even Ryan got this suspicious half-smirk when Nadia had asked him if he'd rebelled. James, though, just scoffed.

"No, I didn't rebel. Unless you think reading ahead in the texts and finishing the semester's homework a month early so I can concentrate on extra credit assignments and extra simulator training rebellion."

He was honestly too perfect and it annoyed Nadia, so she expected to be proud of James when he started to bend the rules a tiny bit, even if all he was doing was wearing an extra article of clothing. Instead she was just worried he'd gone off the deep end.

That was, until the door to the hangar bay swished open. It was pretty late, they'd just finished their test flight for the day to check the MFE controls and power stability before changing back into their uniforms and making quick discussion of the fighters condition after their fight in the war. Luckily everything was in order, and they were all scribbling down their individual reports for Veronica and Sam when the door opened.

Nadia, Ryan, and Ina had taken the bench, where Ina had taken to typing her report while Nadia used Ryan's back as a desk to write down her own, Ryan hunched over where the clipboard was on his lap, James standing with another tablet a few feet away from the others, occasionally looking at his fighter as if he was searching for something specific he needed to add into his report.

When the door swished open James turned to see who'd walked in, but clearly whoever it was didn't warrant a greeting as he just looked back down at his tablet to continue his report. Nadia could hear the sounds of shuffling shoes, however, so whoever had entered was still there, and she looked up just in time to see who it was.

Keith, their resident Black Paladin, shoulders sagging somewhat heavily, heavily enough that she felt concerned. There were even bags under his glassy eyes, his nose appeared red and chilled, cadet uniform buttoned all the way up (which was strange on its own merits). She was going to speak up, greet him, ask what he was doing there of all places, because as far as she knew, Keith didn't normally associate with any of them outside of meetings.

Her words were stolen away once she realized he was making a straight beeline for James, and though she was only somewhat aware of their less than friendly history with one another, she kept her lips sealed and watched with uneasy eyes as the other pilot got closer to James.

Then something happened that she never would have bet on in a million years. James seemed to wait for Keith to be within proximity before pulling his attention away from his tablet finally, then grabbed the edges of his jacket and opened them. Nadia's jaw dropped, Keith stepped up and pressed himself against James' chest, face thudding against his shoulder, and James zipped the front before lifting his tablet back up, occasionally moving his hand to pet Keith's messy hair.

Nadia just stared for a long minute, keeping quiet while she assessed if James was actually aware of what he'd just done, because he'd done it so fluidly, as if it had happened a hundred times before now. As if the half Galra legacy of the Blade of Marmora and right hand man to the Commander of the damn Atlas shuffled up to him in a stupor all the time, and James was just, what, used to it by now? No big deal? Just another Tuesday?

Nadia swung her arms out to smack both Ina and Ryan in the shoulder, and they both gave her annoyed looks as she grabbed onto their shirts and yanked on them, nodding her head clumsily in James and Keith's direction until the other two pilots finally turned to look at what she was gaping at. Clearly James was unaware of the stares, perhaps he'd opened himself up for Keith unconsciously before zipping the coat around him. He stood there continuing his work with Keith snuggling against him as if no one else was in the room.

Keith looked weirdly like the feline he piloted, eyes closed and brows furrowed in annoyance at something no one else could see. Nadia could see movement slithering beneath the jacket as he wound his arms around James, squeezing him and nuzzling his face deeper against his neck. James' nose wrinkled somewhat.

"Your face is cold, knock it off."

Then Keith mumbled something and James rolled his eyes. Ina opened her mouth, probably to say something logical and well thought out but also badly placed, so Nadia slapped a hand over her mouth and dragged her back, elbowing Ryan into standing until all three of them were on their feet, edging away from the bench and towards the door.

Nadia didn't know why they were leaving, but there was this feeling in her chest like warmth, maybe pride, and a voice in her head saying she was being witness to some sort of endangered and rare exhibit of James Griffin affection. She didn't want to disrupt whatever this was, so instead she whispered to Ina to take a picture before the door shut and she released the blonde pilot, who turned to her looking almost disappointed.

"Why did you pull us away? That was fun to watch."

Nadia lifted her hands to the sides of her head before throwing her arms forward, "Holy shit what did I just witness!"

"You guys are up late," the three of them turned to see Shiro, of all people, walking down the hall, "Still working? You know you don't have to push yourselves."

"Appreciate it," Ina noted, and Nadia smacked her shoulder.

"We were just finishing up our reports, but we got interrupted by Keith."

Shiro paused in his steps, good natured smile falling into something along the lines of pure concern, "Keith? Did something happen? Is he alright?"

"Uh, I don't know, doesn't he hate James?" Nadia asked, squinting, and Shiro's expression was blank, before he shifted his eyes, and that was definitely suspicious.

"Well, depends on your definition."

Ina tapped her phone before holding it out to show off the picture she'd taken before they'd slipped out of the hangar, and Shiro leaned forward to see better; Keith pressed against James' chest with the pilot's coat zipped up around them both while James absently worked on the glowing orange tablet and Keith nuzzled his neck.

"Ah, he took my advice I see."

"Your what?" Nadia asked, eyebrow arched crookedly, and Shiro stood straighter, left hand propping against his hip.

"Keith doesn't do too well in the cold. Normally he can deal with it, but when it gets to be too much he kind of stops functioning. Back in the day he'd steal my coat when I wasn't looking, and if I was wearing it he'd hug me and insisted I zip it up. If I wasn't wearing a coat, he'd try to get under my shirt, and let's just say I didn't really appreciate cold hands on my stomach," he adopted a tired faraway look as if he was reliving a war, even though all he was doing was reminiscing about a teenage Keith who liked being warm and got warm any way he damn well pleased, not caring for the personal space of his chosen victims.

"Did... did he do that to a lot of people back then?" Nadia asked, and Shiro shook his head.

"Keith didn't have a lot of friends when he was studying here. I was the only one he talked to, the only one he trusted. He didn't approach strangers when he was that cold, because it made him vulnerable. He didn't like looking weak in front of people and still doesn't."

"Then he must trust James a lot," Ina observed, "I've thought it for a while, but they seem much closer now the war has ended."

"Well, yea, I guess," Shiro smiled, "I witnessed Keith trying to get under James' shirt the other day when it dropped below sixty-seven, making him nearly scream. After he managed to pry Keith away, I recommended he wear a coat, because it wasn't going to stop," he shrugged, "Glad to see he took my advice. It's less trouble in the end to just let Keith koala until he's warmed up."

"That's kinda cute, who knew the scary Black Paladin would be so soft. Though, why would he choose James of all...," Nadia trailed off, Shiro curved a brow, and she opened her mouth with an, "Ah," of realization.

"Ah," Ina mimicked, and Ryan added his own.

"Ah," before Shiro smiled and shrugged, turning to Ryan when he added, "I'd like to request a change of dorm."

"That can be discussed," Shiro assured in understanding.

Beyond the doors to the hangar, Keith had peeled open one eye to glance at the now unoccupied bench. He could've sworn the rest of James' team had been there when he'd walked in, but didn't dwell on their disappearance as he rolled his head again to press his face against the side of James' neck, nuzzling against it with his nose and making him tense up again.

"Stop it, seriously. How are you so fucking cold already? Your nose is fucking ice."

"Make it warm then, jerk, what use are you if you’re not a heater," Keith mumbled, burying his nose against the thick padded fabric on James' shoulder, nuzzling against it to get feeling back into his nose.

He really did love this coat. James had body heat to spare, and it was held in perfectly by the custom jacket that was generously padded with faux fur. The first time Keith had seen James wearing this he'd been confused, because James was the last person he expected to break dress code like that. Until the cold sapped his energy and he went seeking warmth from said James Griffin.

Keith actually expected him to bolt like he'd done the first time Keith tried to nuzzle under his shirt to steal the heat from his skin, but instead when he saw Keith coming he set down what he'd been holding and parted the sides of the coat with a determined, challenging look on his face, jaw tight and watching Keith with an unspoken, "Try me, bitch, I'm ready this time."

It wasn't until Keith was safely tucked into his chest with the jacket zipped up around him, melting into the heat with a sigh, that he actually realized the whole entire reason James had started wearing this thing was for Keith. So Keith could nuzzle against him when he got too cold and James could close him in securely until he was warm enough.

At first Keith had stayed there until he'd fully warmed up, before peeling away and shuffling off to finish what work he still had to do, but these days he was staying longer and longer, safely zipped up in James' coat and nuzzling his neck and his shoulder. There was a lot he loved about this, not just the heat he was basically stealing.

He loved this coat, it was aesthetically pleasing to look at, and it made James look hot (not just the temperature either). He loved being this close to James so he had to wrap his arms around the other pilot's waist, fingers clinging to the fabric of his shirt at the small of his back. He loved James' scent, something softly spiced mixed with the smell of oils, pen ink, and paper. He really loved burying his nose into James' neck to inhale that scent, and he loved that it lingered on his own clothes once he finally peeled himself away.

Today, he just wanted to stay there for a minute longer, even when James had finished his report and mailed it before setting the tablet on the wing of his fighter with disinterest, hands finding Keith's shoulders beneath the coat and squeezing lightly.

"Hey, are you warm yet? It's late."

"Little bit longer," Keith mumbled selfishly, and James gave a sigh, arms wrapping around his shoulders and his back.

"Honestly. You're doing this a lot more often. Are you sure you're not getting sick?"

"I'm always getting cold in the winter," Keith defended, "You should get used to it."

"You know I do have my own work. Do you want to just take the coat? I don't mind. It is pretty warm."

Keith squeezed James around the waist, lips pressing into a tight line, and James took a sharp inhale at the tight hold around him, one hand slipping up to the back of Keith's head. There were no words offered to him in apology or explanation, but he got the sense he'd just said something wrong.

"Kei-?"

"Do you hate it when I do this?" Keith asked, "I mean... I just do this without thinking normally, but if you really hate it."

"Wha?"

"I just... when I'm cold I mean, Shiro says I get really grumpy, moodier than I normally am, and just gravitate towards the warmest and safest thing I can. I can stop, though, if you're annoyed," he loosened his hold and took a step back, as much as he was capable while still trapped in the coat, "I used to do this with Shiro, hide in his coat when I was cold I mean, I'm sure he'd be okay if I started doing it again since he never complained before. So long as I don't get my cold hands on his bare skin."

James wrapped his arms even tighter around Keith, yanking him back into place so forcefully that Keith grunted a little, chin on his shoulder and eyes blinking in surprise as James hugged him, "No way. This is fine," he decided, a growl of possession graveling in his throat.

Keith squinted with another grunt when James again tightened his grip, curling over and around him, and huffed a little, "What, are you jealous now?"

"I spent a lot of money on this coat you fucking prick," James defended lamely, "You better take advantage of that and use it more often."

Keith rolled his eyes, wrapping his arms back around James to hold him, nuzzling against James' neck until he'd started to relax, "I'm not going anywhere."

"Good. Cuz I'm not annoyed by you doing this. I don't mind at all, really."

They fell into a relaxing silence after that, James' arms loosened from their crushing hold but still tight and secure, one hand still on Keith's head, fingers playing with the soft strands of his black hair, chin and cheek pressed against the side of his head as he stared down at the floor. For a fraction of a moment he remembered the others and flashed his gaze to the bench in a panic that they'd witnessed all of this, but relaxed when he realized they were alone in the hangar.

There was a draft from the outside, cold and dry, but when it rippled past Keith just nuzzled deeper into James' arms, and he felt his lips curling into a pleased smile, rubbing his hand over Keith's shoulders to warm him more. The smile fell though when the corner of his eyes caught sight of the end of the scar on Keith's cheek, his arms tightening subtly as he found his stare at the ground turn to a glare.

He always got mad when he really looked at it. Not that it took away from Keith's beauty, because it definitely didn't, but it was a sign that someone had hurt Keith. Someone dangerous got way too close. James wasn't delusional, he wasn't going to pretend he could protect Keith from the things that threatened him, because most of those things were inter-dimensional or otherworldly monsters who dwarfed James in both size and strength. Keith refused to tell him how he got the scar, but that just made it worse.

James cared, so much, way too fucking much, about this piece of shit, and all he wanted these days was to hold him selfishly close so no one else could touch him. All he wanted was to protect Keith, but he couldn't, and he knew he couldn't. He wasn't special, he wasn't a Voltron Paladin, or a Blade of Marmora, or some legacy like Keith was.

He was just James Griffin, the boy who used to bully and harass Keith so much when they were kids that Keith punched him with a killer left hook to shut him up when he went too far. James Griffin, who followed the rules to a T and became the image of stuck up and bratty to the other cadets because of it. James Griffin, who was only an MFE pilot because he got lucky. James Griffin, who could only watch helplessly as the Black Lion came streaking across the sky like a falling star only to crash into the ground before James had time to make a wish.

"I'm sorry," he found himself speaking without thinking, and Keith peeled open one eye to stare up at James' profile from where he'd pillowed his head against his shoulder.

"Hu?"

"Just... seems like the right thing to say," James shrugged absently, "I'm sorry."

Keith closed his eye again and slipped closer to nuzzle once more against James' neck, "I already forgave you for the past, James. We were both stupid kids, and I already punched you pretty hard. My mom likes you, she's forgiven you too, so you don't have to worry. We've had this conversation a hundred times, Griffin."

"That's not... what I was apologizing for," James admitted, and Keith opened both eyes, frowning as he waited for him to continue, to explain somehow, and after letting out a shaky sigh, he finally did, "This is all I can do," he said in a defeated voice, "and I'm sorry for that."

"What do you mean this is all you can do?"

"I mean, letting you do this when you're cold. It's all I can do."

"I still don't really get it."

James tensed, grinding his teeth, not necessarily in anger or frustration, but anxiety and humiliation, "All I can do is be here, waiting for you for when you need me, need warmth or some kind of comfort, because it's not like I have the skills or even the flying capabilities to come with you when you're off defending the universe," he spat it out like it was a mouthful of poison he'd been swishing around his tongue for a long time, and Keith's eyes widened in surprise, though he didn't move from his position in James' arms.

He remained stationary and compliant and patiently waited for James to continue, "There are a lot of people who need you, who need Voltron and the other paladins, and I get it, I really do. I have no right to keep you from this destiny, because you're good at what you do. You're strong, stronger than anyone I've ever met, maybe the strongest person in the whole universe, and you're smart and capable, despite being reckless. You have a good team behind you to keep you from harm if your recklessness does rear its head, and I trust them for the most part. I can't stop you from being a paladin and I don't want to, because I'm proud of you, I'm proud of what you've accomplished and continue to accomplish, and I look up to you and strive to be as strong as you, as good a leader as you, but- I wish I could be what I want now," his fingers buried into Keith's hair, tenderly cradling his body to his chest and nosing at Keith's temple reverently, "I wish I was stronger so I could protect you, guard you, be someone you can trust to keep you safe. I want to shield you from any more scars... but I can't," his grip weakened with the crack in his voice, hand sliding to the base of Keith's neck, "I'm not strong enough... skilled enough... I can't take care of you the way I want... this is it. This is all I can do."

Keith was shaking in James' arms, lips twisted in his attempt to hold in his sobs. It wasn't like he was sad, really, and he didn't feel pity. He felt a sense of disappointment, that James thought so little of himself. Anger that he assumed this, and everything else he did for Keith, was somehow not worth as much as him sacrificing himself for Keith's health.

He pulled back as much as he could and cupped both hands onto James' face, framing it and pulling him close, watching violet tinted eyes widen before blacking out his face as their lips brushed together. It was quick, chaste, then it was over and Keith was looking James in the eye, trying not to find the blush to his cheeks endearing as he spoke in a steady voice.

"This is enough," James' eyes widened a fraction more, Keith kept his hands in place, "I don't need a white knight, James, I don't need someone to protect me from harm like I'm a damsel, because fuck knows I am the farthest thing from it," he arched an eyebrow until the corner of James' lips twitched a little, "What I need is this. The ability to find you after a long, exhausting day so I can do this," he dropped his face back against the shoulder he'd decided was much better than a pillow, "Be held by someone I trust, trapped in a really attractive coat. Someone who knows so much more than just war," it was his voice that cracked at that, and James' arms tightened around him again, "I don't want to think about the war, or fighting the Galra, or the people I've lost. I want to think about you, and how you smell like Old Spice and dusty books, and how that's so lame because who reads physical copies of books these days when all of them are downloaded as PDF's on the Garrison holotablets, and how sometimes you have oil smeared over your hands and face because even though you're a pilot, you also like to keep up maintenance on your own ship, so you taught yourself mechanics, and I know you did because I saw the textbook fall out of your bag in second year, so don't try to make up an excuse. I want to think about how I didn't have anything left on Earth before, but now I do, now I have something grounding, even though that something is so addicted to the sky, just like I am. This is enough. This is more than enough. This is more than I ever thought I would get, more than I ever thought I deserved," he squeezed James around the waist again, "Don't change. Get stronger so you can survive anything, but don't become familiar with war. Please. Keep yourself safe so I have something to come home to."

James could feel his heart pounding against his ribs, and he was wildly grateful that his team had tapped out earlier so they wouldn't hear any of Keith's confessions, or his own. This was something that needed to remain private between the two of them, something no one else needed to hear. Something James could protect. Sure, maybe he couldn't protect Keith the way he really wanted to when they were on the front lines, but he could protect him here at home in the Garrison.

By keeping Keith locked in his arms, by offering him a safe place to hide, a shoulder to cry on when Keith already bottled so many of his emotions inside, that was how he could protect Keith; because Keith was strong, insanely strong, but his mind could only take so much before this war, being a leader to Voltron, started to wear him down. James could protect him from that much.

He sealed his determination, locked it against his heart, when he unzipped the coat and pushed Kieth back far enough to frame his face with his hands, a thumb tracing the scar on his cheek before burying up into his black hair, fingers tangling into it, and tilting Keith's head back a bit so he could lean in and kiss him.

Not chaste this time, it wasn't a sweet kiss of reassurance, because Keith already knew James was going to be there for him no matter what. No, this kiss was one of possession, lips parting so he could slide his tongue along the seam of Keith's mouth until it opened a crack, enough for James to tilt his own head and deepen the kiss, teeth clicking together and tongue tracing the inside of Keith's mouth, along the roof of it before twisting their tongues together clumsily.

Keith gave a muffled moan, nails biting into James' upper arms, the jacket providing enough protection that he couldn't feel it, though he could feel Keith's trembling. He broke the intense kiss, returning in order to brush a softer one against Keith's lips before pulling away completely to see his reaction, pleased with himself to find him red faced with a stunned look in his eyes.

"Hey, go out with me," James said, and Keith blinked a few times to regain his composure before meeting James' eye.

"Huh?"

"Go out with me. Date me. Be my boyfriend," Keith's face darkened a deeper shade of red, gaping at James, who quickly added, "You get all the benefits if you say yes. I'll let you hide in my coat all you want, whenever you want, and you can have one of my pillows when you stay the night, if you decide to ever stay the night with me."

Keith blinked a few times, "Is that it?"

"No," James drew out, taking a step back and folding his arms as his head tilted back, "Uh, you can also borrow my shirts, you know, like you do when you're dating. You can use my Old Spice I guess. I'll buy you flowers and crap, and call you pretty, and tell people you're my boyfriend very liberally until people are sick of it. We can make out in hallways and make people uncomfortable."

Keith snorted, doubling forward and barking a laugh, rubbing his eyes with the heel of his palm before standing straighter and smiling at James, "Yea, okay, we can negotiate the benefits of dating later," he held his hand out, and James eyed it before taking it in his own and pulling Keith closer until the paladin had dropped his head against his shoulder.

They stayed like that for a moment, James playing with the ends of Keith's hair, before he let out a deep sigh, "Stay the night with me."

It wasn't even a question, and it really didn't have to be, with the way it slipped out of Keith's mouth so smoothly, like his intentions with each syllable rode on silk. James paused in his idle play of Keith's hair, holding his breath for a moment before adding on a question of his own.

"Is that a yes?"

"It's another benefit of dating me," Keith was almost teasing by then, hands on James' waist, and the MFE pilot closed his eyes in contemplation.

"Don't you have a roommate?"

"Nah," Keith laughed the word softly, "Lance, Hunk, and Pidge stay with their families, Allura stays with Romelle, my mom has her own place with the rest of the blades, says I deserve some privacy. I have my wolf when he's not popping in and out of the other's homes. Besides that..."

"You're alone," James didn't like that, but at the same time it worked in his favor, and he raked his fingers through Keith's hair again and grasping it in a loose fist, tugging gently to get Keith to look at him and the eager yet cautious smile on his lips, "You don't have to be anymore, then. Lead the way."

Keith offered a crooked smile in return, reaching down to take one of James' hands and turning, before thinking better of it and giving a sharp whistle. A crack that broke the sound barriers echoed in the hangar before Keith's cosmic wolf appeared in a flash of light, and Keith tugged James closer before setting a hand on the back of the inter-dimensional canine's neck.

"So no one sees us sneaking into my room," he said in amusement, and James barely had the smile on his lips before his vision blacked out, and he found himself standing in Keith's dorm with the paladin praising the wolf, "Thanks buddy. Give me the night to myself, okay? James will keep me company. Go say hi to mom and the others."

The wolf nuzzled against Keith's face before turning those intelligent eyes to James, then disappeared, and Keith turned to him, taking a step forward to grasp the collar of his coat, dragging him down to another kiss without a hint of hesitation.

And yea. Both of them really, really loved that coat.


End file.
